


This Time, The Princess Does the Rescuing

by die_traumerei



Series: Castle Terra [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley and Horses is Crowley's NOTP, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Protective Crowley, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Sex, Trans Female Character, Trans!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Crowley does not like horses.Horses do not like Crowley.But when Aziraphale's mount comes back without her long after she should have been home for a camping trip, there's no question of Crowley going out to find her and bringing her home.(In which Crowley rescues Aziraphale -- of course -- and brings her home. Featuring a lot of worried princess, a little bit of hurt, a ton of comfort, a touch of sick!fic and lots of conversation while they're both confined to bed. The same bed, needless to say.)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Castle Terra [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801759
Comments: 46
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The best thing about writing them as mortal is that hurt/comfort doesn't even require hand-waving to ignore angelic healing. I love it. And them. Please enjoy this soft, tender story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> And thank you SO MUCH to everyone who gave me ideas for this series on Tumblr! This takes blatant advantage of a few of them ;)

“I'd say I wish you could come with me, but this is the most convenient cold you could get,” Aziraphale commented, and Crowley had to laugh.

“I might have had to come with something more drastic,” she admitted.

“You're going to have to get used to horses someday,” Aziraphale scolded gently. “It's so much easier to go visiting than in a carriage. We can't even get to Gaia to visit Asha _except_ on horseback.”

Crowley sighed deeply. “I know, I know. And Bentley's nicer than her grandmother.” That being the horse that had thrown Crowley all those years ago, breaking her arm.

“She's the gentlest horse I've ever met,” Aziraphale said, but her voice was warm, and she hugged Crowley again. “You don't have to love riding, but I think you'll like it someday.”

“Hmph.” And Crowley coughed again, turning away, and oh _bugger_ , this was a proper coughing fit, with Aziraphale rubbing her back and Crowley reduced to wheezing and going all red-faced.

“Poor thing.” She'd fallen ill a week ago, and Aziraphale had nursed her tirelessly. At times a little too much so, but they'd figured it out. At least now she was up and about, feeling well but for a lingering cough that kept her from going along on Aziraphale's little camping trip.

Well, that and that it was being done on horseback. There was a real temptation in finding a slippery bit of floor or jumping off the chicken coop roof or something of the sort to ensure a minor but convenient injury to keep her at home and on her own two feet (more or less, depending on how her grand plans went).

“I'm fine,” Crowley wheezed, catching her breath. “Really.” She smiled, and snuggled into Aziraphale's arms. “Go on your ride, you silly thing. I'm sure I'll be my old self when you get home.”

“I'm sure you will.” Aziraphale rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “See you in a few days, Crowley. I love you.”

“I love you too.” They kissed, brief but sweet, and Aziraphale headed out, cheerful as could be in her riding clothes, her bags already packed and her horse waiting for her. Not Aster, which made Crowley a little itchy – this was a new horse, a gelding that Chae had asked her to put through his paces

Crowley waited in her spot on the sofa, and as soon as Aziraphale had definitely left, stole out onto the parapet that ran by the Library to watch her ride off in the late spring sunshine. There was some meadow that was particularly beautiful this time of year, and Aziraphale intended to take a slow jaunt around the countryside, spending a night in the forest and one at this particular meadow before wending her way home. Sybarite that she was, her bedroll and blankets were fine and thick and soft, and she carried some nice little treats from the kitchen in addition to what she'd buy along the way from farmers and such. The trails were clear and well-marked, and she'd be safe as houses. And Crowley, who was perhaps a  _tiny_ bit grateful to not be fussed over, settled back on the sofa to nap and dream a little.

She eventually went back to her own rooms; though the Library had become a second home to her, it did feel a little odd being there without its Librarian. And she couldn't read the books particularly, although Aziraphale had found a few with very large, clear print that Crowley could manage a few pages of at a time. The thought had been sweet, and she wasn't ungrateful – far from it! – but she wasn't naturally much of a reader. Far nicer to check over the plants she was trying to grow indoors, or plan her next weaving project. She could do the maths for the warp and weft in her head, quickly working out the number of ends, the colours, the yarns she'd use. Sturdy wool for warp, a softer silk and wool for weft, and Asha would have a fine wrap that would hold up to hard wear  _and_ be nice to touch. Crowley's heart glowed to have been asked to make something nice for Aziraphale's friend – for  _her_ friend – that would keep her warm through the winter. She was loved and wanted, and she was useful in her own way.

That was enough self-introspection for one day, particularly when ill, so Crowley took herself to bed to nap until supper, falling quickly into a delicious dream about Aziraphale, and a distinct lack of clothing  _on_ Aziraphale.

It was slightly embarrassing how quickly her cold faded away; by supper she had a middling cough, though one that lingered into the next morning, a gloriously lovely day. Too many days abed meant Crowley got dressed quickly after breakfast, and headed out into the world with a spring in her step to find as many people as possible to annoy.

Uncle-King was easily talked into a game of chess, and for someone who gave the impression of a farmer with a fancy hat and job title, he was a formidable opponent. Crowley was fair-to-middling, but she had a few good runs, and was pleased with herself to lose with some honour.

“Aziraphale's out of the castle the next few days, isn't she?” he commented cheerfully, as they put the chess set away.

Crowley flushed. “I come and visit even when she's here!” she protested. “But, er. Yes.”

He just laughed and leaned back in his chair. “That wasn't a complaint. Both of you, come to dinner when she's back – I want to hear how that gelding rides.”

Crowley stifled a groan.  _Horse talk_ . Well, she could make faces at Adam when no one else was watching. “Yes, Uncle,” she said. “She's due back tomorrow.”

The King nodded, and Crowley went to take her leave, as his secretary was coming in with a large stack of documents.

“The two of you are good together,” the King called after her, and Crowley was glad she was walking away, she flushed so. Auntie and Uncle did so like to make it plain that they considered Aziraphale another niece. It was warming. It was infuriating. It made Aziraphale go all stuttery and more than once had made her cry. It once made _Crowley_ cry. She hated and loved it in equal measure, and it filled her up with so many feelings she went running around the castle to annoy as many people as possible, until Chae literally collared her and put her to work conditioning various leather horsey things.

She got given a big apron to protect her dress, and was firmly sat down in the sunny courtyard, Chae a familiar presence at her side. Both of them lean and tall, they could pass for brother and sister. Physically,  _and_ the way they treated each other.

“I'm going to get you comfortable on Bentley if I die trying,” he advised. “Get used to it.”

Crowley sighed. “ _Fine._ When he picks up that I'm the enemy of all horse-kind and throws me and breaks all my bones into tiny little pieces, you have to answer for it,” she threatened.

Chae rolled his eyes. “Now you're just being dramatic.”

“Have you met me?” Crowley grinned, rubbing some kind of secret oil mixture that had come out of a battered old can into a saddle. It smelled nice, and there was a lovely breeze, and she was being very dramatic. She didn't even jump anymore, when horses made noises. And she _could_ ride, she just hated to. Important difference, there.

Chae yanked one of her braids, and she yelped about him getting her hair all greasy, and there was a brief interlude so they could wrestle in the yard, Chae's height giving him an advantage that left Crowley, literally, in the dirt.

She returned to work happily, feeling calm inside and out. Running about the castle, irritating her best friend, losing at chess to her Uncle – she had a good life. And just one more sleep alone, and her beautiful girl would be back, dusty and happy and probably with grass in her hair, and Crowley would be right there to hug and kiss her and get her into a bath, and love on her wildly.

_Such_ a good life, here. And forevermore; this was her home, and Aziraphale's, and they'd walk these paths and live in these rooms and tend the Library and the gardens and everything for the whole rest of their lives.

Crowely smiled softly, thinking of a long life ahead – they were both relatively young, really – and how much fun she was going to have.

“Bloody hell, I've never seen you smile like that,” Chae said.

“I was thinking about...here.” Crowley turned to him. “Chae, I _had_ to come here. But d'you miss Annwn?” He still had family there, still went back and visited.

“No,” he said, without pause. “I don't. Do you?”  
“The forests, a little,” Crowley admitted. “I miss cedars.” She bit her lip. “I still miss my parents. Sometimes.”

“That's not a sin,” Chae said gently. 

(She was too mean to him, sometimes. He could follow her turns of emotion, the way she went from joking to serious at quicksilver speed. Even Aziraphale got annoyed by that, even as she kept up.)

“They hated me. Why do I miss them?” Crowley asked, her hands still busy, always busy. She liked that about Terra; even a royal princess pitched in with the work.

“They're familiar. They're your parents. No one can replace them,” Chae said. “Crowley, it's _all_ _right_. You can be angry at them and miss them both.”

“I know. I just wish I knew why.” Crowley smiled over at him. “But you're happy we came here?”

“Yes,” Chae said. “I really am, Crowley. Can you see me fitting in there? Now?”

Crowley's smile grew. Her kingdom of birth was...strict. Not as bad as Heaven's Court,  _no one_ was that bad, but their friendship had been barely tolerated, and would probably have been forbidden as they both grew to adulthood. Definitely no wrestling in the dirt.  _Maybe_ Chae would be able to go hunting and riding with Crowley's wife, the Librarian, but honestly no part of that particular reality would have been permitted. And definitely not the two of them all but bodily retrieving Crowley for supper after a successful hunt, and plenty of whiskey until far too late into the night.

“No, I see your point.” She looked at Chae, at the gangly boy who'd become a long-limbed man. Even if she went for men, he was more a brother than anything else, and she was grateful to have had him all her life. “Thanks, though. For coming with me. 'S'good having you here.”

Chae blinked, and smiled. “It's good having you here too, Princess. How's that saddle looking?”

Pretty well done, was the answer, and Crowley set it aside to work on a set of reins – Aster's, in fact, and she was extra-careful, checking them for any worn bits, and polishing the metal fittings a little extra, so her pretty girl could ride out in style next time.

Together they worked at the pile of leather goods and gossiped lazily, watching the castle bustle around them. Terra wasn't very big, but there seemed to always be something  _happening_ , be it a distant cousin arriving for a visit or sheep driven to the market, or some farmer arriving with a tithe, or a problem, or both. It was a good place to work, Crowley decided, as she helped Chae stow the leather-conditioning things away.

She was firmly sent on her way then, for next on his list was to tend the hawks, and absolutely  _no one_ else helped with that. Between one thing and another, Crowley had never actually learned to hunt with hawks, and felt no need to begin now, particularly, so she went off on her way after promising to have supper with Chae and the new brewer's apprentice.

Wandering feet brought her to the gatehouse, and she poked her head in, pleased to see Colin there; she liked him best. “Any mail for me or the Maestra Librarian?”

He waved her inside. “A letter, for the both of you. Come and have a cup of tea with me, while you're here.”

Pleased, Crowley kindly put the kettle on, and accepted the letter. It was from Asha, and Crowley considered chancing the blazing headache reading it would give her. But no – better to wait, Aziraphale was due back tomorrow morning. And she could bathe in the warm feeling that Asha had written to  _both_ of them, not just Aziraphale.

Colin poured out their tea, strong enough to stand a spoon in of course, and settled down with one eye on the approach to the castle. “Aziraphale mentioned you'd been ill – feeling better now?” He winked. “Specially since she's on a horse and you're not?”

Crowley laughed and winked back. “That was just a bit of good luck. But yes, much better – hardly coughing at all, really.” Well, mostly.

He nodded. “Good lass. Keep your chest wrapped up at night – a cough is nothing to sneeze out.”

Crowley groaned when he looked very proud of himself. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Don't you contradict me,” he said, very satisfied. “I know these things.” He smiled kindly. “You're set for supper?”

“Yes, with Chae and Edmund.” Crowley narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Is this a set-up to keep me from eating alone?”

“Couldn't possibly comment,” Colin said.

Crowley sighed. “You know, I  _did_ survive before she came into my life. I can eat a meal alone without dying. Sometimes the two of us  _even eat separately_ .”

Colin grinned. “Oh, aye, every couple fights...”

“That's not! Argh!” Crowley was laughing though. They'd had their snits at each other plenty, but they actually _hadn't_ ever eaten apart from anger. Or spent a night apart, for that matter – only illness or injury or, once or twice, late nights of work for Aziraphale had actually kept them in separate beds. 

“You can't be shocked. This is the gossipingest court,” Colin pointed out.

“No, not shocked,” Crowley admitted. “Maybe if it wasn't me, people wouldn't be all up in _her_ business...”

“Oh yes they would,” Colin said firmly. “Trust the old man.”

Crowley rolled her eyes, and sipped her tea. “Colin? What's Caelis like?”

His smile softened. “Very lovely. The grasslands are hard on some, but if you love it, your heart will live there forever. The sky goes on forever. Towns are small; smaller since the war. Your lady's a farm girl, isn't she?”

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale didn't talk much about her home, and Crowley didn't want to pry, but she was  _curious_ . 

“She'll have grown up under that vast sky, then,” Colin said. “Animals love it, and in places the soil's rich enough to grow just about anything. Terrible winters and hot summers, you'll want to go in spring.” He smiled at her. “You'll go visit, Princess, I promise. She doesn't talk about it much, but she's a Caelis girl head to toe.”

“Her family all died in the war,” Crowley said softly. “I don't want to bring up bad memories.”

“You won't. They never went away, so can't be brought back,” Colin told her, and Crowley felt like the worst naif. “Oh, no, don't look like that,” Colin continued. “You didn't do wrong. But don't be afraid to ask her about fireflies on midsummer night. Or when she wants to go and see her Madame.”

Crowley smiled, and finished her tea. “I will. Thank you. Really.”

“'Course. You'll love it there. Quiet and beautiful. The scars from the war are healing,” Colin said, as Crowley took his mug too and did the washing-up lickety-split. “Oh, now, you're a good one, thank you Princess.”

“You're welcome,” Crowley said, and kissed his cheek, and went on her way, thinking about the big sky country, and home, and old wounds and new love.

Dinner went well, and drinking late after went even better, and Crowley stumbling back to her bed went  _surprisingly_ well. She curled up tight, not even bothering to put on a nightgown, and hugged a pillow, grinning to herself. Soon, Aziraphale would be home. Just a few hours, really. Crowley would get her into bed and strip her to her skin and lick and suckle and nuzzle all her bits but especially the bits between her legs, and make her moan and demand more and it would be  _so_ nice. And with that plan set, she fell into tipsy dreams.

Breakfast cured any nascent hangover, and Crowley was pleased to both have a pot of coffee all to herself, and that her cough had gentled considerably. And, of course, her angel coming home soon. She was smiling as she dressed for the day, thinking of good things. A late night with friends, and maybe another one tonight, if Aziraphale wasn't very tired...

She cupped her breasts in her hands, eyes slipping shut, remembering the feel of Aziraphale's mouth, kissing her small breasts, tongue going at her nipples like they were the best-tasting cake on the table. Aziraphale would kiss any part of her body at any time; Crowley wasn't sure her libido ever quieted. They made love happy and sad and angry, at each other or the world. A little start-of-the-day orgasm wasn't rare for either of them; more than once Crowley had woken up just enough to give very enthusiastic consent, only to have her lady between her legs moments later. And vice-versa.

One of her hands drifted down to wrap around her cock, stroking slowly, filling, the ache between her legs. Oh, this was a good body day – she loved her slim hips, and her cock and balls, and her flat belly and flat chest and the whole woman's body of hers. It wasn't like her lovers' womens' bodies, but that was okay. It was  _hers_ , and she brought herself to a sweet orgasm, lying on her bed and getting herself off, thinking about the lovely day ahead, and maybe the increasingly elaborate story she and Aziraphale were creating around why Aziraphale had to be tied to a chair naked, hair grippers around her nipples.

Crowley whistled to herself as she cleaned up, got dressed, and went to open up the Library and air out the bed there and make sure the plant on Aziraphale's desk was behaving itself.

The morning passed, but that wasn't too concerning – Aziraphale may have gotten a late start, or was going slow. New horse, she had to put him through his paces, that kind of thing. Anyway, it was only after lunch that Crowley casually wandered down to the courtyard and annoyed Chae, just making sure she hadn't come back and Crowley somehow hadn't noticed.

“No sign yet,” Chae said. “She's only about three hours' ride away, must be stopping off in a village for something.”

“Uh huh,” Crowley said, although she wasn't sure she'd believe that. If only because Aziraphale would never even chance making someone worry about her – or, knowing her, about the horse – by being so late.

They both tried to keep busy. Crowley even helped with mucking out the stables and, with reluctance, brushed Bentley and fed him. The horse, as ever, remained peacefully still around her even as the mare in the next box made some interesting noises every time Crowley walked past.

She and Chae looked to the gate, over and over.

“I don't like it,” Chae finally said, as it became late afternoon.

“Me either,” Crowley admitted, and then the worst thing happened. 

Coming in through the gates was the horse Aziraphale had taken out, fully laden with packs – and completely riderless.

For one horrifying moment, Crowley frantically hoped that Aziraphale had run away. Fled them and sent the horse home, but that she was alive and well somewhere. Even that, even that soul-shattering idea, was better than what  _could_ have happened.

Chae quickly got the gelding under control and into the stables, unloading the saddlebags and unsaddling him. “Go through the bags and see if you notice anything missing. I want to know what Aziraphale might have with her,” he ordered, and Crowley numbly unpacked them. 

“There's a day's worth of food missing, and a canteen,” she reported. “Everything else is here.” Blankets, a warm change of clothes. A little book, of course. She refused to cry when she unpacked Aziraphale's _brush_. She was fine. She'd be fine. Crowley would _make_ her fine.

“Get the bag with the big red cross on it,” Chae told her, still in that same frightening voice. “I'm going out searching.”

“I'm coming with you,” Crowley said.

“You'll have to ride Bentley.”

Crowley swallowed, fetching the bag where she knew it was kept close by. “Chae, do you really think I wouldn't do  _that_ for her?”

Chae nodded. “Get into your riding clothes. Tell the guard captain what happened, and get food for both of us for three days from the kitchen. And be quick about it, I want to be saddled and gone in half an hour.”

Crowley nodded and all but ran for the castle, moving quietly, efficiently, the stone in her chest keeping her going. Aziraphale. Find her. Stay calm, you can fall apart when she's home and in bed and sleeping off a harmless little adventure. You can fall apart when you find her lifeless body. You can fall apart when she's back and in the infirmary, being treated for whatever kept her from riding. All of these options are  _later_ , demon, and until then you stay calm.

There was something to be said for being raised in a household that demanded self-control from the time she could toddle. Crowley was very,  _very_ good at staying calm when she had to be.

She was back in breeks and a split skirt and an old shirt and jacket of Chae's, a pack full of food and messages delivered, well before her deadline. Silently, they saddled up and attached packs and bedrolls and things for camping and things for medical treatment and things to get Aziraphale home if she couldn't ride.

It was afternoon on the cusp of evening when they rode out, Chae in front and Crowley following on Bentley. It was beautiful, rich sunlight and cloudless blue sky. If Aziraphale was home, they'd be...

No. Turn off that part of your brain. No daydreams like that until you know whether she's alive or dead, horribly injured or safe as houses. None of that, not yet.

“I know the trails she planned to take,” Chae explained, when they were far enough out they could ride side-by-side. “We'll take them in reverse, Crowley. Going by the food, she got partway through, at least. We'll ride faster, too, and through the night, make good time. Keep an eye out for anything strange – you can read trails.”

Crowley nodded. She wasn't good with close detail, but she could see where a horse might have gone off the trail. And she seemed to see better in the dark than most people, although of course they'd brought lanterns as well, and it was a full moon. A tiny blessing, on this horrible day.

They rode quietly, half of Crowley's attention on just keeping on her horse, keeping him pointed in the right direction, but soon she fell into the rhythm of that, and he seemed content to ride beside Chae and Aster.

It was so fucking beautiful, and it made Crowley's heart hurt. The fields were painted golden, and the little village they rode through was so cozy. There were roses blooming everywhere.

“Chae?” she asked quietly. “When this is over, when we find Aziraphale and everything is right again. Can we go on a ride like this? In the evening I mean. Nice and quiet.”

Chae looked over at her and smiled, his first smile in hours. “Crowley, of course. We can watch the summer come in.”

Crowley smiled at him, too. “And Aziraphale with us, sometimes. But sometimes...just us?”

“Yeah, demon,” he said softly. “I'd like that.” And they smiled at each other, brother and sister in heart, if not blood. What the fuck did blood know, anyway?

They ate a quick dinner of sausage rolls in the saddle, and kept riding, Chae leading them along wide, smooth paths. 

“Is her whole route like this?” Crowley asked.

“Pretty much,” Chae admitted. “We talked over the route, and of course she wanted to get to that meadow, but this was also to get Vox accustomed to long rides. We wanted to set him up for success, so the trails are a lot easier than Aziraphale would normally pick for herself.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, and somehow worried more. Her girl was _good_ with horses. What could have happened to her on these simple roads? And why was Vox still loaded down with her things?

They were quiet as they rode through the night, setting a steady pace that the horses could keep up forever, slow enough to look for anything out of place, fast enough to make steady progress. Crowley thought she ought to be tired, but who could sleep? Or even doze? She was wide awake as night fell and they entered a great forest, though still with a wide road that let them see by moonlight and lantern.

They had long ago passed the meadow, of course, and were on their way to Aziraphale's campsite the first night, covering ground she probably hadn't got to yet. Every mile they travelled meant longer and longer since she and Vox had parted ways. Crowley couldn't worry  _more_ , but she carefully tallied things in her head. There was food to forage, if she could. But even Aziraphale wouldn't be harmed by a day or two of fasting. She may have had her canteen with her – water was the real worry. No first aid supplies, if she was hurt. No bedroll, but she was wearing warm clothes, and nights were chilly but not freezing. No farms out here, or villages, but just off a major trade road. 

“She might be perfectly all right but unsure of where she is,” Chae said suddenly, sometime between midnight and dawn, Crowley guessed. “She knows how to survive in the forest. Better to stay in one place and let people find you, than to go crashing all over and get even more lost. It's not impossible that we'll find her sat by the side of the road, hungry and a bit sleepy, and not a thing wrong.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “Yeah, of course, that.” Well, it _wasn't_ impossible.

She had grown used to the feeling of a stone in her chest where her heart had been, and of a tight feeling in her throat, and the fear that kept her flitting her eyes from side to side, watching, looking for a branch out of place, or a hoofprint in the mud. 

It was just after the grey light of dawn had turned to colours that they both spotted it – flattened brush and a broken branch. And Aziraphale's scarf, caught on a tree, just a few feet off the road.


	2. Chapter 2

“It's hers,” Crowley said. “I made it for her.”

Chae dismounted, and Crowley followed suit, reaching up to free the soft fabric. She ran her hands over it, but there were no rents, no bloodstains, nothing. It was a little grubby and worn, but otherwise perfect.

“It keeps going – I think she was still on horseback,” Chae said, and they started to lead their horses into the woods, stepping carefully through the undergrowth. When they crossed a small creek, Chae called out Aziraphale's name.

Nothing, but the path, such as it was, continued, and they walked a little more, finding a knitted mitt that was also hers.

“She's trashing the trail,” Chae said, grinning. “This is on purpose, so we can find her. Crowley, it's going to be all right. She knows what she's doing.”

Crowley's mouth tightened. People died and left her and hated her. They weren't  _okay_ . She cupped her hands around her mouth and took a deep breath, and called Aziraphale's name as loud and long as she could, drawing out the vowels.

“I'm here!” Distant, but clearly from their right, following the broken underbrush and the hoofprints visible where there was mud.

“Keep calling!” Chae roared out in his huntsman's voice.

“Over the stream! You're close!”

Crowley started to run ahead, trusting Bentley to do his horsey thing properly. She nearly fell into a deep gully with a small stream at the bottom, steep but narrow enough that she could take a running leap and cross it. “Aziraphale!”

“You're close! I'm here, I'm here!”

There wasn't a clearing, or even a ray of sunshine, just more trees, thicker, a dropped mitt, but Crowley followed Aziraphale's voice, crashing through the undergrowth, and there, there. Under a vast cypress, a patch of bare ground, Aziraphale pushing herself up to stand, weight on only one foot she was  _hurt_ , but she was all right too, arms already out and she was there, she was there, Crowley was there arms wrapping around her.

She couldn't say anything, and there was nothing to say, just hold onto her dear heart, her beloved, hold her tight and safe. It  _was_ going to be okay now. It was all going to be all right, Aziraphale was hugging her back, heavy in her arms, and Crowley kissed her cheeks, her hair, her nose, her mouth, over each eye, her mouth again, and held her so tight it must have hurt, but she didn't make a peep.

She looked up the sounds of hoofbeats, and oh, of course. Chae, leading both horses now, and grinning as wide as Crowley had ever seen him.

“Maestra,” he said, warm and understated. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale turned, and shrank into Crowley's arms. “Chae, I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry. It's all my fault, I lost control, I'm so sorry, please, please tell me what I can do to make this right.” She was shaking, had clearly practiced for this moment, and Crowley just held her and kept quiet. She'd seen Chae tame a baby raccoon; a frantic Aziraphale was well within his abilities.

“Aziraphale, it's all right,” he said gently, coming closer but staying more than an arms-reach away, turning so he faced her at an angle. “Breathe, honey. You did everything just right.”

“But I didn't,” she said in a small, shaking voice. “I lost control, and he just went into the woods. Tried to scrape me off,” she said wryly. “I tried to leave a trail. Um. I dismounted as soon as he stopped, but didn't think to hobble him and that was...I'm _so_ sorry. I understand if I'm banned from the stables now, you'd be absolutely right to.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, still a good ways away, still gentle. “No, you aren't, I promise. Horses are assholes, you know that.” He smiled and held out his arms. “There's a million geldings with no manners in this world. But we only get one _you_.”

“Oh, _Chae_.” She let go of Crowley and went over to him, limping heavily – and not on her bad side, Crowley noticed with a frown. But she could walk, enough, and went into his arms for a hug. “You're as bad as Crowley,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, she rubs off on a body. Like coal dust,” he teased, and she laughed, and hugged him tighter, and he rubbed her back. “Poor Maestra, how long have you been here?”

“Since day before yesterday, early,” she admitted. “I suppose I ought to tell you the whole story.”

Chae nodded. “Go and sit. Crowley, you get her comfortable and get some food into you both. I'll make coffee, and we can have a proper breakfast.”

Crowley, still a little numb with relief, joined them, Aziraphale's arm over her shoulders as she hobbled back to the tree where Crowley helped her down, taking off her jacket to drape around Aziraphale's shoulders.

“Oh, darling, thank you.”

Crowley kissed her cheek. “Sit tight, angel,” she said, finally finding a voice. “Get some food into you. And water.” 

“I've been okay for water, but wouldn't say no to food,” she sighed, and Crowley kissed her again before running for Bentley and the pack of cold pies and sweet rolls and whatever else Cook had given her, not to mention her own canteen.

She also grabbed a blanket, and settled that across Aziraphale's lap while Chae built a quick fire and boiled water. “Eat slow, angel,” she said gently. “We have plenty, but your belly's been empty for too long.”

Aziraphale smiled fondly. “Crowley, I've gone without food for longer than this. Shh, I'm fine. Cuddle up. I'm so sorry you were so frightened.” 

Crowley sat beside her, head on her shoulder, while Aziraphale nibbled at a raisin bun. “Vox came back, by the way. That's how we knew something had happened – well, and it was pretty late in the day. But he just strolled in with all your things.”

“Of course he did,” Aziraphale said dryly. “I've never met a _ruder_ horse in my life.”

Chae burst out laughing. “That's the spirit, Aziraphale.”

She smiled at him, still a little anxious. “I'm sorry. I just...well. Old habits.”

“I know,” Chae said, and reached over, lean body covering the ground to squeeze her foot gently. “That's all right too, honey. So the horse rudely gets you off-path and ditches you...”

Aziraphale sighed and nodded. “Indeed. I knew where the path was, but you've seen we're pretty far. I meant to go to the road and figure out where to go from there, or wait for help, but. Ugh, it's  _embarrassing._ ” She made a face. “That deep stream? I didn't see it, and fell, and hurt my ankle.”

“Ooof,” Chae said, while Crowley buried her face in her hands.

“ _Again_?”

“I know, I know,” she groaned. “I ought to be the heroine of a tawdry romance. I can put my weight on it, I don't think anything's broken, and it hurts less than when I got thrown that time, but I can't really walk more than a few steps. And I tried to leave a trail...”

Crowley smiled, and reached for the scarf, wrapping it around Aziraphale's neck. “Clever girl.”

“Well I'd _hope_ so,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So that's that. I could crawl to the stream, and I wasn't doing much so didn't need much water, but there's not a whole lot of food to forage here. Knew if I sat tight long enough, though, someone would come after me.”

Chae had brewed up the coffee then, and it was almost a merry breakfast, with good food and plenty of hot coffee, the sun properly coming out even in the gloom of deep forest. Crowley kept one arm around Aziraphale, kissing her shoulder and cuddling her, returning again and again to her sweet girl even as she ate a little breakfast herself, sharing whatever Aziraphale pulled out of the pack. Her lady needed a bit of care, but she was well, whole and well and would be perfectly fine after a bath and sleep and a little time for her ankle to heal.

By the time they finished the pot of coffee, Crowley had Aziraphale pretty well in her lap, stroking the long braid down her back, and Chae tactfully went to take care of the horses and give them five minutes of privacy.

“I love you, angel,” Crowley said softly. “Thank you for being alive.”

Aziraphale smiled, and cupped Crowley's face in her hands, and kissed her tenderly. “My poor love. You're so brave. I love you too.” She snuggled close. “I'm so sorry. I know it's not my fault, or rather you  _think_ it's not my fault, but I'm sorry.”

“It isn't. Just an accident.” Crowley kissed her, and kissed her again. “We'll go home, and get you into bed, and get _me_ into bed, and not leave for a week.”

Aziraphale giggled, and kissed her. “That sounds perfect. And oh, love, is your cold better?”

Crowley nodded, and hugged Aziraphale, because only  _she_ would ask such things right now. And it  _was_ , a little cough was nothing. “I can't wait to be home,” she mumbled. “Library. Your bed there. You need to feel safe.”

“So do you,” Aziraphale argued. “We'll squish in my bed – my ankle's really not that bad, I'm sure I can share with you.”

Crowley nodded. “We'll figure it out. I want to be close to you.”

“I don't want you to let me go for a day. At least,” Aziraphale mumbled, Crowley cuddled her even closer. They'd have to ride a few hours, but could go faster. Home. Infirmary first, to get Aziraphale seen to, her ankle and the scratches on her arms and anything else that might have happened to her. Food. A hot bath. Bed. The simplest comforts, but good ones. And the soft warmth of welcome, of love, of no one mad at her or annoyed or anything but grateful that she was all right and back home where she belonged.

Chae came back and saddled the horses, and together he and Crowley got Aziraphale on her feet. “The two of you can fit on Bentley, and I'll take Aster,” he said. “Crowley, you go up first. Maestra, you can still get yourself into the saddle?”

Aziraphale snorted. “I'd bloody hope so. Good grief, he's a big beast.” She limped over to Bentley and petted his neck and rubbed his nose and cooed at him. “Yes, you're going to be a good lad and take us home, and then there will be  _sugar_ for you.”

He nickered and  _whuffed_ in her hair, and Crowley hardly twitched at all to see such giant teeth next to Aziraphale's face.

Chae was grinning and she was going to trip him, next chance she got. Crowley tended to mount horses rather like a sack of potatoes, and this time was no exception, but she got up onto the saddle.

“Take this foot out of the stirrup for a moment, love,” Aziraphale said, patting one of her legs, and Crowley obeyed. And smiled, when Aziraphale definitely felt her calf up. Stupid, graceful horsewoman that she was, she swung up right behind Crowley, settling easily in the saddle, arms around Crowley's middle and chin on her shoulder. “All right, slip your foot back in...you've got it, love, you're doing perfectly,” she coached, and hugged Crowley. “We should have done this from the start. Oh, I love you so much.”

Crowley touched the hands at her belly, and didn't cry. Not yet. “I love you too, sweetheart,” she said softly, and gave Bentley the little kick to get him moving, following Aster out through the forest, to the wide road with Aziraphale snuggled softly up to her back, the most welcome warmth imaginable.

They rode back as quickly as they dared, eating in the saddle and devouring the wide, easy road. The horses, bless them, were tireless, even Bentley carrying two. Aziraphale dozed at Crowley's back, but held on strong, and Crowley wasn't going to complain – not when she could feel Aziraphale's breathing at her back, feel her warmth and her weight. She coughed a few time, and woke her girl, but it wasn't even worth pausing for.

Chae led them in a quiet way – not through the gatehouse, but a smaller gate, a way to slip in without fuss, and with quiet and privacy. He helped them both down by a side door the castle, Crowley stiff from so long in the saddle and Aziraphale's lips pressed together in pain.

“I'll check on you both soon,” he said, and hugged Aziraphale tight. “Promise me you won't worry about anything?”

“Oh, honey. I promise I'll try.” She hugged him back, and kissed his cheek, and something glowed in Crowley. Her little family. Aziraphale safe and comforted, and Chae proud and he loved her too. Well, she was as good as his sister-in-law, really.

He gave Crowley a swat, and sent them on their way, Aziraphale leaning heavily on Crowley to get to the infirmary.

“You're back!” Tiffany set her bowl down and all but ran for them, hugging Azirphale tightly. They had gone riding together quite a bit, and were becoming friends. “Oh, no, poor thing. Here, put your arm around my shoulders, that's it, no weight on that foot please, there you go.” She got Aziraphale into bed, looked at the two of them, and nodded. “Food first. And I'll send for the doctor, he's around here somewhere.”

“Oh, don't go bothering him for – yes Tiffany,” Aziraphale said meekly and even Crowley was impressed at the glare she got. There was a chair right by the bed and she settled down there, taking Aziraphale's hand while Tiffany moved about, efficient and comforting. They were home. Aziraphale was being seen to. She was _alive_ to be seen to.

A page returned quickly with sandwiches for them, and Crowley's appetite came with the warm bread and roast pork and the way she hadn't eaten or slept properly for far too long. Not time to rest yet, though. 

While they ate Tiffany got Aziraphale's boot off, approving of how she'd kept it on and laced tight, to keep her ankle compressed. It started to swell right away, though a bag of ice helped. Tiffany washed and bandaged one of Aziraphale's forearms while Crowley took the other one, the two of them giggling despite themselves, set off by Aziraphale laughing at being so coddled.

“There!” Crowley tied off the clean white bandage and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You're the squirmingest woman I've ever met, but now you won't get gangrene, at least.”

Aziraphale just laughed at her, but she was smiling and soft and her eyes looked less hollow, so that was all fine.

The castle physician arrived soon after with a charming apology for making them wait as he settled by Aziraphale's bedside. “Now then – oh good grief,  _again_ ?” he teased, and she laughed and hid her face. 

“I didn't mean to!”

“There now, we're both old hands at this,” he said warmly. “Hold the Princess' hand, this is going to hurt for a moment,” he warned, and Aziraphale did, her hand sliding confidently into Crowley's.

The doctor moved the ice aside for the moment and put the joint through a range of motion, some of which was fine and some of which had her gasping and holding Crowley's hand tightly.

“There we go,” he said kindly, and replaced the ice while he went through the tray of supplies Tiffany had brought over. “Not very nice, I know. It's not a serious sprain, but I am a little worried that it's the same foot – you might have a bit of a gammy ankle for a good bit, even after it heals.” He smiled kindly at her. “I can give you exercises to do that will help, and it's nothing to really worry about at all, Princess I can see that look on your face now.”

“I have a gammy hip, it can join the collection,” Aziraphale said dryly, and he laughed.

“Exactly. I'll splint it and bandage it, you know the drill there. Three days without any weight on it, please, and then you can switch to just wrapping it, and start to put weight on as long as it doesn't hurt.”

Aziraphale nodded, sinking back against the pillows as he set the wooden splint in place, soft lambswool padding between it and her skin. 

“Is there anything else I should check on?” he asked gently. “You've eaten, and had water?”

“Yes, plenty of both,” Aziraphale assured him. “I have some nasty scratches on my arms, but they were taken care of.” She sighed, and smiled. “Just tired. And embarrassed.”

“The one is to be expected, and the other, though you truly don't need to be – embarrassed, I mean,” he said, working now at bandaging her ankle from the ball of her foot up to her calf. Crowley felt something in her release, softly. Aziraphale's hurts were small ones, and well-tended. There was food and time to sleep and time to rest. Even the Library was well set up for her to get about on crutches, not that she'd be working again for a few days yet. But she could wander her beloved stacks and find books and they could snuggle and read together. Crowley was hale and healthy, and could fetch and carry and wait on her and anything else she might need. Or want. Or not yet know she wanted.

He finished off the bandage neatly, and asked Tiffany to put together a basket with fresh bandages, the painkilling tea, all the usual things.

“Now you,” he said, turning to Crowley.

“Me? I'm fine,” she protested, pushing her dark glasses up her nose.

“You've coughed a few times since I've been sitting here, and when was the last time you slept properly?” the doctor asked her.

“Um,” Crowley said.

“That's what I thought,” he said, and smiled kindly. “I just want to listen to you breathe, make sure we don't have any lingering problems in your lungs.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, hand still curled around Crowley's. “You shouldn't have come after me.”

Literally everyone in the room looked at her.

“I retract my statement,” she said dryly. “Good lord.”

The doctor laughed, and moved around the bed. “Right,” he said, and settled at her back, head close enough to hear the workings of her lungs, at least a bit. “Breathe deep for me, Princess.”

She got two deep breaths before something caught and she coughed – not for long, at least, and not with that awful deep sound.

“Little bit of a rattle, still,” the doctor said kindly. “Bed, Princess Crowley, for the next day. And stay there, except for when you absolutely must get up. I know the two of you will take care of each other, but give the next day to Aziraphale, at least, all right?”

“What? No!” Crowley said. “She's _hurt_ , and I'm fine!” This was so stupid. She was not going to make _Aziraphale_ take care of _her_. “She's spent two days in the woods without food, and injured! She could have been killed!”

“I mean, I suppose. But really, impromptu camping in late spring? I'd hope I could keep body and soul together in that situation.” Aziraphale touched Crowley's cheek and turned her face, meeting her eyes through her dark glasses. “My poor love. I'm so worried about you. Stay in bed for a day, all right? We're both going to mostly be asleep anyway. Min can help out, since I can't really carry things. Please rest for me. I want you to get better too, you had such an awful cold, and it's starting to linger.” She smiled at her. “For me?”

“This is the most blatant emotional manipulation I have ever experienced and it's working and I don't like you,” Crowley said.

“Yes dear,” Aziraphale said sweetly. “Is that everything?”

The doctor, who had clearly been trying not to laugh too much, nodded. “You're both left with marching orders. Please don't hesitate to send for me, either of you, if anything worries you. Or to send for more tea, or anything.”

“Really,” Tiffany added, sneaking a few more goodies into their basket. “Someone here can always hop up to the Library and see to either of you. And I've already sent word that both your meals will be sent there, so don't worry a jot about that.”

“Both of you must come and take tea, then, when Crowley's allowed out of bed,” Aziraphale said firmly, and sighed when a pair of crutches appeared, ready for her. “Right, that's us sorted. Love, you carry the basket? Enjoy that, it's the last thing I'll let you do for the next day,” she teased, while Crowley made a face at her. Aziraphale was being winsome and manipulative and annoying as fuck, and Crowley wanted to marry her again in front of the entire court, right that moment.

She settled on the crutches, and they bid everyone goodbye before making their slow way back to the Library, mostly in quiet as Aziraphale remembered how to shift her weight, her bandaged foot held up off the ground. It was slow going, with a moment to rest here and there, but soon they were in the vast, quiet, fragrant space of the Library, and both sighed in relief.

“What...time is it?” Aziraphale wondered aloud.

“Um. Evening?” Crowley, who had been awake for well over a day, yawned enormously. “Fuck.”

“Oh, love,” Aziraphale said softly. “Right. If I get into a bath I'll fall asleep, and you will too. Wipe down, then into bed for both of us?”

Crowley nodded around another yawn, settling the basket of things in Aziraphale's little bedroom, atop the trunk that held her undergarments. They helped each other undress, sleepy fingers fumbling at buttons and laces, and Crowley dumped both their clothes in a pile that was well out of the way. Someone else could take care of washing the dust and sweat from them.

They wiped each other down, too tired to even be flirtatious, and Crowley later guessed that she'd actually fallen asleep on her feet, considering she remembered washing Aziraphale's face, and nothing else. They must have got to bed somehow, not even bothering with nightgowns. Well accustomed to weaving their bodies together, they snuggled in the narrow bed as the setting sun lit the world up golden, and fell fast asleep between one breath and the next, bodies intertwined, two hearts beating together just centimetres away from each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, the story earns its rating this chapter...

Sometimes, she could get lucky. Lots of times, really, but Crowley was particularly grateful that she woke to a soft grey day, with no bright sunlight to wake them too early, or draw either of them out of bed or, God forbid, make it too warm to snuggle under soft quilts together.

It was fairly late into the morning; well, no surprise there. Aziraphale was still fast asleep – good. They'd moved in the night so that Crowley lay on her back, and Aziraphale was snuggled up to her chest, using Crowley as a kind of body pillow.

Crowley was  _absolutely fine_ with that, for the record. Aziraphale was even snoring softly, but her face looked soft and the deep hollows under her eyes had smoothed out. She was breathing deep and easy, her lips in the slightest smile. Her hair desperately needed washing and re-braiding, but it could wait. It could all wait, while she healed and ate and rested and was home, safe and sound.

Crowley petted her back, and winced when she started to stir. “Shh,” she breathed. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mneh.” Aziraphale gave a little stretch, and snuggled closer. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh-unh.”

Crowley smiled and kissed her brow. “I love you.”

The softest of hugs followed, her Aziraphale gentle, but also probably still mostly asleep. “I love you too, Crowley.” A little sigh, and a snuggle.

“D'you feel okay? I can make you tea,” Crowley said, still stroking her back, soft long touches.

“No you can't, you're to stay in bed,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Do not argue with me, demoness. I won't have that cough lingering.” And then, softer. “You promised me, Crowley, that you would spend today resting.”

“I do not like you at _all_ ,” Crowley said, and belied her words with a big hug and a kiss on the top of Aziraphale's head, as her eyes slowly opened. “Oh, angel. You're home.”

Aziraphale smiled at her. “Of course I am. You might not like me, but I love you, so nyah.” She sighed and snuggled deeper. “I'll get up in a moment and see to breakfast and things. But I just want to hold you, just for a little bit.”

“For as long as you want,” Crowley murmured. “Anything you want, angel, it's yours.” She was going to have to get up soon anyway – for bodily needs, and to take care of her face. She wanted to kiss Aziraphale for _hours,_ but not with stubble. The thought alone...not a good one.

Aziraphale giggled softly. “Don't promise me that, I'll get greedy.”

“I hope you bloody do.” Crowley petted her hair, and kissed the crown of her head again. “You like your rock-hard pillow?”

“I love it,” Aziraphale said, rubbing Crowley's belly. “And it is not rock-hard. It's very nice.” She yawned, and stretched, and kissed between Crowley's breasts. “Right, breakfast.” One more kiss, this time to the back of Crowley's hand, and she rolled out of bed, pivoting neatly on one foot to grab her dressing gown, then crutches, and go to find a page to sort things out there.

Crowley took care of things in the bathroom before taking herself – and her newly-smooth face, and thank you thank you whoever for not having  _too_ much scruff despite not shaving in days – back to bed, and tried not to feel like the worst scrub. What a fucking time for her body to betray her. She was used to it not being what she expected in some fairly fundamental ways, but this fucking took the cake. 

Of course,  _Aziraphale_ didn't mind, but she was still half-used to being abused and neglected and treated generally like shit, so Crowley didn't consider her the most accurate barometer. She should be snuggled in bed, warm and resting with her foot up and a cup of the painkilling tea as soon as she awoke, and plenty of coffee at the ready, to say nothing of a hot breakfast she didn't have to wait for. And Crowley to cuddle her and check the scratches on her arms and brush the dust out of her hair. And to kiss her and make sure she felt safe and at home.

She blinked away a sudden sting in her eyes. It wasn't  _fair_ . Aziraphale deserved better than what Crowley could give her, and she ought to have figured it out already.

“Oh, love, what's wrong?” A gentle weight on the bed, and Crowley turned over, curling onto her side.

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Ignore me, I'm useless.”

“Hush, now,” Aziraphale said. “None of that is true. Oh, love, you've had it rough these past few days. You couldn't sleep for ages, barely ate, and I worried you terribly, all while you were still sick.” A heavy, steady hand on Crowley's shoulder, bringing her back to herself and pinning her to the earth. “You know me, original farm girl. A good meal and a good sleep and a good fuck and it'll be like nothing happened.”

Crowley laughed, brokenly, and rolled over. “Which is why you deserve better than me.”

“I disagree,” Aziraphale said, ghosting the backs of her fingers over Crowley's face. Crowley had a funny, dark scar on one cheek, and she had grown to love tracing it with her fingertip, so she did that now. “I think you're the best woman in the world. And I think I deserve the best.”

Crowley's mouth dropped, and she was startled out of her near-crying. “Angel!”

“Well, I do,” she said primly. “Oh, demoness, you darling thing. We're partners, aren't we?”

Crowley nodded.

“So we take care of each other. My ankle's not so bad, this isn't _anything_ like when Aster threw me. I've had my good sleep and I'll have my good meal and we'll have a good fuck when you're up to it, and I can take care of you, for a change. There is no resentment, Crowley. Just love, and wanting you to be comfortable, and your cough to get better.”

“I know, I just...”

Aziraphale sat patiently, and Crowley sighed. 

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled, and rubbed her eyes. “It's just for a day.”

“Assuming you feel better tomorrow,” Aziraphale said. “My ankle will heal in a few days. Lungs are not to be toyed with.” She leaned over and pulled Crowley into a warm hug. “And honestly, you're the most low-maintenance person I've ever met. We'll both be snuggled in that bed for nearly all the day, and you can fuss over me when I'm two inches away to your heart's content.”

Crowley laughed a little, and hugged her back. “I still think you could do better.”

“And you're afraid that someday I'll realise it?” Aziraphale asked softly.

Crowley nodded.

“Funny, that. I have the same fear about you.” Aziraphale kissed her cheek. “So we deserve each other, really. Right, let's get you semi-decent, Min's going to have to help us with breakfast and she _definitely_ deserves better than the two of us.”

Crowley laughed, even as she tried to figure out how Aziraphale didn't know that she was an absolute, utter, perfect prize of a woman. She brought Crowley her dressing down, tossed over one shoulder, and all right she moved well enough on her crutches, bandaged little foot not touching the ground as she'd been ordered. None of the aching limping of that winter, now years ago, when she was mostly bruise and a serious sprain and maybe something broken and generally miserable. There were some bruises, yes, but what would be expected from two days in the woods, small and easily healed.

Crowley didn't do anything as frivolous as relax, watching Aziraphale move, but she didn't feel on the edge of trembling tears. Besides, she had to plan the really good fuck Aziraphale had all but requested after they ate. Honestly, it would do them both good, she reckoned. It always did.

Min arrived with breakfast soon after, cheerful and kind and making up plates for both of them. Crowley in bed, of course, and Aziraphale in a chair nearby.

“I'm so sorry to put you to more work,” she apologised, once she had a _very_ generous tray of food on her lap. “But can you please make me a cup of tea with the sachet in the wicker basket just there?”

“Maestra, of course,” Min said, and scolded gently. “I'm here to help, you know. It's what I'm paid for, like you're paid to do Librarian things, and it's what I'm good at. You sit tight and don't worry about anything, and I'll see you cared for.”

Aziraphale smiled at her. “Will you at least have a cup of coffee while you wait on us?”

Min laughed, and promised she would, and bustled off to take care of the medicinal tea, the library soon full of the homey sounds of a good breakfast and a singing kettle. The sun still refused to break through the clouds, but Aziraphale swore up and down there wasn't a promise of rain, her hip was fine, eat your eggs Crowley before they get cold.

Min of course joined them for the promised coffee and a baking-powder biscuit while they ate, she and Aziraphale exchanging a little gossip about one of the footmen, and Crowley contributing any interesting news she'd got from the new brewer's apprentice. They teased Min about her pash on one of the other maids, and she teased them in return about their general existence which was, frankly, completely deserved.

“You send for me if you want anything at all, either of you,” she said firmly when they'd finally finished eating, and Aziraphale had downed her cup of tea. “We've no guests and it's quiet in the kitchen and anyway I'm under orders to serve the two of you first and foremost. Neither of you are to go wanting, is that clear?”

“Yes, Min,” the Princess Crowley said meekly.

“You're a dear and you deserve better than us, but very well,” Aziraphale agreed, and they smiled at one another.

“Maestra, I'm so glad you're all right,” Min said quietly, as she settled the big tray on her shoulder to carry back to the kitchen. “I'll lock up on my way out.”

“She needs a _raise_ ,” Aziraphale said, as soon as the door locked, and Crowley heartily agreed.

“Right, lass, into bed with you,” Crowley ordered, and Aziraphale laughed and did as commanded, hopping the short distance and wriggling under the covers, reaching for Crowley and a hungry kiss.

“Oh, fuck, I love you,” she breathed. “Crowley, Crowley, _please_...”

“If you have to ask, I'm falling down on the job,” Crowley said. “Shhh, easy love. We have all day. Literally.” She had sat up against pillows to eat her breakfast, and was still mostly upright, and easily guided Aziraphale to sit astride her lap, smiling when her horny angel already rocked her hips, making a happy little noise when she felt Crowley start to go hard. “Yes, you needful thing. Easy.” She was going to take her time, drive Aziraphale _mad_ , and love every second of it. 

Crowley started by kissing a line from Azirapahle's shoulder to where her dressing gown crossed over her chest, slipping one side away to reveal a perfect, soft breast. More kisses as she cupped Aziraphale's breast in one hand, enjoying the weight of it and the way it more than filled her hand, licking the soft skin that smelled like her, like her clothes. Crowley fitted her mouth around her hard little nipple and licked and suckled while Aziraphale clutched her shoulders. Her angel liked a little sweet pain, and more than once they'd finished play with two perfect bite marks around her areolas, but Crowley thought today might be more gentle. She didn't want to add to bruises, or even good pain. Just a little drawn-out pleasure.

Aziraphale was actually a very simple woman. Her whole body was a kind of erogenous zone, plus any space within about three feet of her, but really she liked her tits played with, and her clit, and that would do her just fine. Considering that these were some of Crowley's favourite parts of her body, this did  _her_ just fine.

(Aziraphale's whole body was all Crowley's favourite parts, really.)

“Crowley,” she moaned, when she still only had one breast out, so Crowley slid the other side of her gown aside, and had two breasts to play with, to fondle and kiss and lick and suck until Aziraphale was moaning and grinding against her, hands buried in Crowley's hair now, begging for more.

“Maybe in a bit,” Crowley said, just to be mean, and Aziraphale moaned harder. Poor little love – her bandaged foot was angled so her toes hooked on the side of the bed, Crowley would have to be careful of that, the splint not letting her straighten her ankle. She kissed between Aziraphale's breasts, going a little lower, worshipping her big, soft belly. It was round and full from their breakfast, exactly the way Crowley liked it best.

She caressed Aziraphale's thighs, strong and fat and muscular from riding and cake, and squeezed her arse before going back to caress her breasts, holding them softly while she worked her way down to lying, finally scrunching down enough that she could urge Aziraphale to sink down, Crowley's hungry mouth just below her vulva.

She was  _dripping_ . Her thighs were already wet, to say nothing of Crowley's own chest – somehow her dressing gown had got open, probably her tricksy lover who insisted on loving her bosom – and it tasted so, so good to guide her down, fill Crowley's senses with her soft, swollen sex, already soaking. Crowley opened her mouth as wide as she could, lapping at Aziraphale's hole. Never penetrating, she didn't like that, but tasting the entrance, the particular tang of the skin there. Oh, her love's menses must be coming on, good. An excuse, not like they needed one, for an earth-shattering orgasm to soothe the painful cramps she got, Crowley between her legs and happy as could be, getting as messy as humanly possible. That was in another day or two, though, right now it was better to nose between the folds of her labia, soft and baroque and delicious, licking the soft crevices of her and oh, her clit. Big, bigger than any of Crowley's other lovers, as bold as could be especially when Aziraphale was turned on which might, possibly, be always. Even in the bath, it wasn't much hidden but stood big and proud and Crowley loved it, loved how it reminded her a little of  _her_ cock, the way they were both sheathed. The way it went red and swollen and firm under Crowley's mouth, suckling here too.

Aziraphale orgasmed easily, and this was no different, her soft cries rising to moans and louder cries until she came with a short, muffled scream, shaking all over, trembling and soaking Crowley's jaw and chin.

Curious, Crowley didn't let up, her long tongue spreading, licking again at the soft, warm entrance, at her fat clit, bringing her hands up so her thumbs could massage the wiry hair of Aziraphale's mons, not letting her take a breath. She started to rock her hips again, humping Crowley's face, begging for more, begging for a break. Crowley would have grinned if her mouth wasn't busy already, bringing on another body-wringing orgasm.

Two in a row wasn't a bad record, but she  _did_ want to play a long time, so she eased up then, shifted them with gentle hands so she straightened out and Aziraphale lay on her chest, moaning softly and shivering from time to time as her body juddered in pleasure.

“Hi, baby,” she said softly, when Aziraphale looked up at her, still bleary-eyed. “I love you.”

“I picked the best wife in the universe,” Aziraphale managed, before laying her head back down. “ _Fuck_ I needed that.”

Crowley laughed, even as she trembled a little bit at the whole wife thing. “Catch your breath, I'm not done yet,” she advised, and Aziraphale laughed and hugged her tight.

“Good, neither am I. Gosh, your cock's hard,” she teased, reaching between them and giving the organ in question a little caress. “Beautiful girl.”

Crowley preened, safe and adored and feeling sexy as could be. “For you. Hard for you.”

Aziraphale grinned and shifted. No penetration, but she rubbed her vulva over Crowley's cock, getting it wet with her own fluids and making Crowley groan deeply and shudder. “Fuck, fuck...”

“Maybe this afternoon.” Aziraphale grinned. “We haven't played Naughty Maestra's Assistant in weeks!”

Considering the last time had ended in Crowley laid over Aziraphale's big desk being fucked up the ass until she screamed, her hands tied to the desk and Aziraphale absolutely merciless with the strap-on, this was a major oversight that would have to be corrected.

“What did I fail to do this time, Maestra?” she murmured, reaching down to stroke her cock, her fingers rippling over Aziraphale's sex at the same time. 

“You were _so naughty_ ,” Aziraphale whispered. “I can't believe how bad you were. I love you so, so, so much, but you don't realize how worthy of love you are. You think I can do better, without realizing that you're the best thing that ever happened to me, ever in the world world. I wouldn't change one part of my life, because it led me to you. And if you think I could ever stop, you don't understand what a perfect, wonderful, beautiful Crowley you are. That's _very bad_ , and you need to be taught otherwise.”

Crowley didn't mean to, but she threw her head back and came with a yowl, barely touched, just from Aziraphale's weight and her words and her soft fingertips.

“Well, that's another for the kink list,” Aziraphale teased gently, when Crowley's eyes pointed in the same direction again. “Oh, baby, I love you so much.”

Crowley moaned softly, and hid her face in the soft of Aziraphale's shoulder, their bodies slick and messy and together.

Aziraphale just held her, always giving her the time to be soft, to ease back into her body. To glow a little. Crowley loved this quiet, after-orgasm time more than anything, when she was tender and safe, her body relaxed. She often drifted off into a little nap, waking up practically glued to a smiling Aziraphale always ready with a kiss.

No nap today, though; she really had slept enough, although she had to admit the day in bed was nice. Her body  _was_ tired, and her lungs were...not hurting, as opposed to how they'd felt yesterday, and all right. She possibly needed this.

When she blinked her eyes fully open and Aziraphale was right there, smiling like she always did, Crowley knew it was, truly, going to be all right.

Her heart still revolted when it was Aziraphale who got up and fetched warm, wet flannels to wipe themselves down, making use of a small bag she could easily sling across her body. It was only a little soothed when her angel wiped her belly and thighs clean, and the cloth felt so nice, and the way Aziraphale was so tender with her cock and balls She groaned a little, moving, her thighs sore from riding and Aziraphale made a sad little sound and kissed each leg. 

“Poor girl,” she said. “You'd be in bed anyway, you were so long in a saddle.”

“S'pose,” Crowley admitted, stretching and wriggling back into her dressing-gown, watching Aziraphale clean herself off, half-kneeling on the bed. “Your ankle all right, love?”

“Fine. I'll put it up when I get back into bed and not notice a thing,” Aizraphale assured her. “Shall I fetch a book to read to us?”

“That would be nice,” Crowley said, blushing slightly at how she was being so spoilt. “Oh! There's a letter for us, by your chair – from Asha.”

“Oh, lovely!” Aziraphale sorted her own dressing-gown out, covering that beautiful body in the simple white wrap again, and Crowley tried not to be sad. It would be time for lunch soon, and Chae had promised to look in on them, to say nothing of other possible visitors. 

Still.

Aziraphale was gone for a bit; the crutches forced her slower than even the worst wet day, and Crowley tried to not brood about this. Tomorrow she could tie Aziraphale to the bed – literally, possibly – and do for her. Not that she needed it, clearly, but she liked to indulge and Aziraphale liked to be indulged. This way 'round felt strange.

It must have felt strange for Aziraphale too, when she finally returned having set the flannels to dry, unlocked the door, and retrieved book and letter. She sat on the side of the bed, face a little troubled, and laid her hand over Crowley's. “Crowley? Do I...make you do too much for me?”

Crowley smiled at her. “Feels weird for you too, huh?”

Aziraphale nodded, looking troubled. “I don't like it. We're partners. What's it say about me that I'm used to being a lazy old thing, while you fetch and carry for me?”

“Hey, don't say mean things about my favourite person,” Crowley said softly. “C'mere. You need to get that foot up, and I need to hold you.”

Aziraphale smiled, and did as Crowley asked, the two of them pressed tight side-by-side on the bed. Crowley helped her get a bolster into place so she could put her foot up, and frowned at how swollen her leg was around the bandages. Well, she'd have hours of rest now, and they could send for the doctor if need be. More important was Aziraphale snuggled into her, Crowley turning onto her side to better hold her pretty angel.

“Remember when we started doing this, and you told me you were a pillow princess?” she asked, and Aziraphale flushed.

“Yes.”

“And I literally kicked my legs in the air I was so happy,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale smiled, just a little bit.

“Yes, but...you were signing up for me being lazy during sex, not as a general thing,” she protested.

“You're not lazy, stop that,” Crowley said. “You like to lie back and get eaten out for hours at a time. But you don't let me go without, and you take time to be soft. To hold a space for me to come back to myself. You've never in your life been impatient for me to get over my orgasms. Partners isn't doing the exact same thing for each other, it's filling in the bits the other person needs. Or wants.” She kissed Aziraphale. “Just bad luck that we're both on the invalid list just now.”

Aziraphale smiled, grudging. “You don't feel like I put too much on you?”  
“No! Not at all! I'd be happy if you were  _more_ demanding.” Crowley touched her cheek. “I love making you happy, and Aziraphale, you're so  _easy_ to make happy. A kiss and a cuddle and a fuck, some cake or a new book or a very old book. You smile so easily for me. I love it, every time.”

Aziraphale's smile grew, and she giggled and hid her face a moment in Crowley's shoulder. “I love making you happy, too,” she said softly. “You deserve every ounce of it.”

Crowley cuddled her gently, glad now that they were both in bed, that Aziraphale was resting and recovering, even that they could be invalids together. “You do too,” she said. “My sweet Maestra. Feel better now?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “I still don't like that doing for you feels weird. But maybe it's because I'm hurt too. It was fine when you were sick and I was well.”

Crowley nodded. “I get that. Poor luck, is all. And I  _don't_ like how your foot is looking, by the way. We'll limit the messy sex and get someone else to fetch and carry some, all right?”

Aziraphale smiled. “All right, demoness. I do love you.”

“I love you too.” Crowley kissed her cheek. “Right, what's in the letter!”

Aziraphale giggled and opened the big envelope – Asha was good about multi-page letters, and Aziraphale usually obliged with the same. “She's going to kill me when she hears what happened.”

“Well, wouldn't blame her,” Crowley said cheerfully. She slid her arms around Aziraphale's waist, and closed her eyes, and savoured being read to, feeling safe and easy.

The letter was long and chatty, talking about this and that and funny stories from Gaia. And, best of all, inviting them to come and visit.

“And if I'm not enough of a draw, Elsie will be here all of May – oh _Crowley!”_ Aziraphale gave a little shriek and hugged the letter. “Oh, we have to go, you'll get to meet Elsie, you'll absolutely love her, she takes zero of my foolishness and she's funny and incredibly beautiful.”

Crowley laughed and pressed kisses to Aziraphale's cheek and neck. “I love her already. We'll go, of course, and see them both. You'll be long healed by next month.”

“I'll be long healed next _week_ ,” Aziraphale teased, and tilted Crowley's face up for a long kiss. “You worrisome thing. Shall we go visiting the second week of May? I have to be here the week after, there's a scholar who's coming to make use of the Library.”

Crowley nodded. “You know I don't have a schedule,” she teased, and smiled shyly. “Does Elsie know about me?”

“That you exist? Yes. That you were born into a boy's body? No. Asha doesn't gossip like that, and neither do I,” Aziraphale said.

“But the rest of the world does,” Crowley pointed out. “She won't mind? She honestly might already know who I am – lots of your classmates probably do.”

“She won't mind,” Aziraphale said gently. “I promise you. I know a few people who might not be good about it, I won't lie to you. Not friends, of course, but people I went through school with. We're not likely to ever encounter them, but if we do, I'll keep you safe. I _swear_ this to you. I would never, ever do anything that might even _chance_ you being hurt, or feeling like you're not wanted and accepted. I'm quite serious about this, Crowley.”

Crowley smiled shyly, and hid her face again. “Aziraphale?” she asked softly. “Do you know who the Librarian at Annwn is?”

“I do, actually,” Aziraphale said gently. “It's a man, about ten years my senior. I've met him before – when I was at Heaven's Court, he came and stayed the night en route to Annwn, though we didn't exactly spend much time together. Why do you ask, love?”

Crowley shook her head. “I wanted to make sure it wasn't someone you loved, or missed, is all.  _I'm_ banned from travelling there, but you aren't.”

“No, but if you're not welcome there, then I don't want to go,” Aziraphale said. “You're my wife, love. In the ways that matter. I have no interest in going to the place that threw you out.”

Crowley hugged her, and turned the conversation. This was a big thing, for her heart to absorb. “Tell me about Elsie? I mean, besides all the sex, I'd like something I can ask her about over dinner.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Honestly, she'd be thrilled to be quizzed on her cunnilingus technique. Oh, let's see. She's interested in tenth-century history, same as I am. Absolutely loathes any kind of fine handwork, embroidery and stuff, and it's worth asking her why, it's a funny story. She's going to fall in love with you at first sight – she's a deeply affectionate woman. She and Asha are going to fight over who gets to cuddle you, I swear.”

Crowley laughed, and hid her face a moment. “She will not fall in love, I'm not an historian at all. But we can talk about not doing embroidery, I guess.”

Aziraphale smiled and stroked Crowley's back. “You remember she uses a wheelchair?”

Crowley nodded. “You had to too, didn't you? When you were healing?”

“Mmmhmm, for a few months. It was something we shared, kind of.” More gentle stroking, and Crowley felt her whole body relax. Maybe she did need a nap. “She's whip-smart, and very funny. Bit acid-tongued, but she'll back off if you need her to. Elsie's curious, an experimenter, as you could have guessed from our outdoor, ah, escapades. She has the best ideas for adventures.”

Crowley nodded, definitely already half-asleep with Aziraphale's soft voice and softer cuddles, hearing about a woman who would, probably, be a new friend. “I hope she likes me.”

“She's going to _love_ you,” Aziraphale whispered. “Tell her about your orrery. Tell her how much you love me. There now, love, take a little nap. I won't go anywhere...there we are.”

And Crowley slept.

“Lunch is up!” Of course it was Chae's dulcet tones that woke Crowley up, followed quickly by Aziraphale's scolding.

“If you've woken her, I'll tan your hide – Chae!”

“Nnnh. S'okay. M'hungry,” Crowley mumbled, coming awake and rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She wasn't quite snuggled up to Aziraphale's chest anymore, but that was all right; they were both in bed, her angel warm against her side, and anyway, Chae was there too, and with something that smelled amazing.

“Well, you could have had a _nicer_ waking up,” Aziraphale grumped, and kissed her cheek. “C'mon, up you go, that's my girl.”

Crowley was still three-quarters asleep, and therefore sweet and pliable, and she just smiled when Azirpahale helped her sit up against pillows, half-snuggled into her side. “Hi love,” she said, a little in a daze, and Aziraphale kissed her cheek.

“Hi yourself, baby,” she said gently. “Eat something, and you can go right back to sleep, sicky girl.”

“M'not sick,” Crowley grumped.

“You're sick?” Chae asked, worry in his voice. “Crowley, I know you were coughing a bit while we rode...”

“She's a little sick, still,” Aziraphale explained while Crowley yawned and shook herself fully awake. She'd been having a dream about...something. Something lovely. “Ordered on bed rest today, poor love, just to give her lungs a little longer to heal.”

“You make me sound like I'm on death's door, good lord,” Crowley said. “You're not allowed to put weight on your foot for three days.”

“Two and a half,” Aziraphale said, because she was a little shit. “Now.”

Crowley feinted, pretending to push her out of bed, and Aziraphale just laughed because she was a bastard, and Chae snickered at the two of them.

“Right, God, eat already, both of you,” he scolded, and gave them each a generous bowl of fragrant dumplings.

Crowley's belly made a hungry noise and she dove in, savouring the rich tomato-y sauce, the heat and the slight spice of it. Dumplings were her favourite, and she was pleased at the coincidence of having them just now.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Aziraphale asked Chae, because she had manners. Great, one of them could be polite and Crowley could eat. “Please tell me you got to sleep and eat and all that.”

“Of course, Maestra. I'm fine, I promise. A good night's sleep, and I'm not sick _or_ hurt,” he said with a wink, eating his own bowl of dumplings. 

“I know, I know, I'm hopeless,” Aziraphale said cheerfully. “We'll both be right as rain in a few days at least.” She smiled at him. “And thank you, by the way. I can't remember if I actually thanked you.”

“Aziraphale, no thanks needed,” he said gently. “I'm sorry we landed you with the rudest horse alive. He really is an asshole, by the way. Bit Wat twice this morning.”

“Well, I've had days where I was tempted to bite Wat, so I can't go pointing fingers.” Aziraphale smiled kindly. “Poor boy, tell him I send my condolences. Is Aster well, at least?”

“With plenty of sweet feed and an apple as a treat. She's ready and waiting when you can ride again,” Chae promised, and they devolved, as they usually did, into horsey talk. Something about gaits. Crowley was pretty good at tuning it out by now, but just the sound of their voices was plenty of comfort. Her beloved and her best friend, good friends themselves by now, and everyone home and safe. Even Aziraphale's foot looked a little less swollen, and Chae must have brought some ice, for a little oiled bag was draped over her ankle, the cold soothing and helping heal.

Talk came around to courtly things, and Crowley groaned to remember some dinner she had to be at on the next day – without Aziraphale, most likely. At least she and Auntie could linger late over drinks and share gossip. And one of her newest gowns deserved an outing. Designed by Aziraphale of course, it was softer and looser than Crowley usually wore, with a new silhouette that gave her quite a bosom, and a high waist that made her look columnar and elegant.

Chae teased her about having to be a Princess, and Aziraphale teased her about having to sit through a formal dinner, and she grumbled happily at both of them until they were all three well-fed, and Chae had to return to work.

“Thank you,” Crowley said, and meant it. “For lunch, and for coming to see us, and take care of so much.” She and Chae play-fought more than they were openly kind to one another, but he'd ridden all night to find Crowley's wife. He had worried about her – about _them_. And he was a good man, and a good friend.

“You're welcome, demon,” he said gently. “I'm glad to see you're both resting, and on your way to being well. Go back to sleep, all right? Do your lungs some good.”

“I'll do you some good,” Crowley teased, and Chae surprised her when he bent over the narrow bed and hugged first her, then Aziraphale.

“I'll check in again tomorrow,” he promised. “Be well, both of you. Crowley, stay in bed, all right? It's good for you.”

Crowley blinked, startled. Maybe they were growing up, finally. Chae sounded...not frightened. But concerned,  _really_ concerned. He'd seen her far worse than this, though. “All right,” she said. “I promise. I've been good so far.”

He smiled at her, “Good. Have a lovely afternoon, both of you.”

Aziraphale caught hold of his hand and squeezed. “You too. Don't work too hard, dear.”

“Never do.” He winked, and with dishes stacked and a little tub of fresh ice nearby, took his leave.

“Do I look on death's door or something?” Crowley asked. “He's seen me far sicker than this.”

Aziraphale laughed and settled back with a happy sigh, slumped against the piled-up pillows, and of course Crowley went into her arms. “You do a little, to be honest. You're pale, love, and, er, your hair's kind of a horror-show.” She touched Crowley's cheek. “I'll comb it out for you before we go to sleep tonight. We're just worried about you. And I'm annoyed at myself, for not realising how your cough lingered. Imagine he's the same.”

“I haven't coughed once today,” Crowley said with a smile. “I think I'll survive. I love you both, but you're being silly.”

“Oh, I absolutely am,” Aziraphale agreed. “I don't know. You _were_ quite sick, just a few days ago. I love you so much, and Chae does too. Sometimes these things hit funny.” She gave Crowley a little squeeze. “We'll all three of us be back to ourselves in a week.”

Crowley smiled and rubbed Aziraphale's leg. “How's this feel, sweetheart?”

“Your hand's about a eighteen inches too low,” Aziraphale teased. “My ankle's okay. I don't even need tea right now, and the ice helps. It's all swollen and feels a little funny, but nothing I'm worried about.”

Crowley nodded. “Fair enough. We'll keep an eye on it. And you.” She kissed Aziraphale's cheek, just in front of her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too, demoness.” Aziraphale settled them softly, smiling when Crowley tucked her head into the soft space between Aziraphale's shoulder and chin. “With all my heart. What do you want to do, sweetheart?”

“Just talk,” Crowley said. “I want to spend time with you. Is that okay?”

“Honey, of course!” Aziraphale rubbed her shoulder. “Talk about what?”

“D'you ever miss Caelis?”

“Oh, good question.” She fell quiet for a bit, hands still, of course still holding Crowley. “Not exactly. It's a very beautiful place, and I can't wait to take you there. Sometimes I miss the sun setting over the prairie. I think what I do miss, though, is things I can never get back. Being a little girl running after a cow through the tall grass. My parents. Being...young. Not having some of the memories I have.”

“Oh, angel,” Crowley said softly, and turned and hugged her tightly. There were no words to make this better.

“There now, don't be sad. I have the best life,” Aziraphale said gently. “And I can go and visit anytime I want, now – the prairie, I mean, and my Madame, and I can speak my language.”

Crowley smiled. “Your accent comes back sometimes. It's really pretty.” Aziraphale sounded like she was singing her words, the way her accent was.

“Thank you, sweetheart. People here don't mind so much, so maybe it'll come back stronger.” A soft touch to the back of Crowley's neck. “Annwn has its own language, right?”

“Mmmhmm, although I only speak it a little. Mother and Father believed it better for me to learn the formal language of the courts from birth,” Crowley explained. “This _is_ my accent, only one I've ever had.”

Aziraphale nodded. “It was like that at Heaven's Court too – had to be careful of my vowels.” She smiled. “I know a little --” 

She spoke a few words, and Crowley couldn't stop a delighted smile. “Yes! That's a little rhyme, for children...” Her nanny had sung it to her, in Annwn's own language, and taught her what it meant.

Aziraphale laughed, and kissed Crowley's neck, and whispered the words again, of the land of her birth. “Oh, I love you,” she added, and Crowley giggled.

“I don't speak Caelish at all, will you teach me a little?” she begged.

“Of course.” Aziraphale kissed her, and they started with an easy lesson, teaching her hello and goodbye, yes and no, please and thank you. And I love you, of course.

They giggled and cuddled and talked the afternoon away, refreshing the ice on Aziraphale's foot as it melted, kissing and being tender. It was Aziraphale's turn to drop off for a little nap just before supper, cuddled and sweet in Crowley's arms.

Epilogue

It was a good few days before they both felt back to themselves, sleeping long hours together and spending their days mostly in bed. Not even having sex. (Well,  _sometimes_ not having sex.) Resting, and Aziraphale eating a little more than usual to make up for her accidental near-fast while Crowley tempted her with little treats. Crowley's cough never came back, and the rattle in her chest faded, and she was free to wait on her beloved hand and foot just as she liked best.

It was a pretty, sunny morning, as Aziraphale lay in bed watching Crowley carefully wrap her foot, the hard splint set to one side and only soft, clean bandages needed to support her ankle. It felt a little funny, almost too loose, but was hardly swollen and didn't hurt at all after three days of no weight, and elevated and iced most of the time.

She smiled when Crowley looked up and gave her foot a little pat. “All right, love, see how that feels. I can have you back in the splint in a moment, if you need it.”

“You worry too much,” Aziraphale said, sitting up and pulling Crowley into a hug. “I love you, I feel fine. Wonderful, actually.” As well she should; last night the Naughty Maestra's Assistant had been tenderly and very thoroughly pegged as punishment for her vast crimes of going and playing in the forest when her Maestra had needed her and also not believing that she was worthy of love. She was only allowed to come when she'd repented completely of both of these things.

Crowley, who still had a bit of a hitch in her step, grinned and kissed her. “Still. Up you go, love, and see how you feel.”

Aziraphale smiled and indulged them both in the tiniest snuggle, before getting up and settling on her crutches, weight on both feet this time. She cautiously walked a few steps, nearly out of her little bedroom, when she stepped heavily, made a face, and lifted her foot up. “Well, it's a start.”

“Still faster than when Aster threw you,” Crowley comforted. “It's only been a few days, darling, and you know you heal a touch slowly.”

Aziraphale had pivoted neatly, and was coming back to bed to sit beside Crowley and snuggle a little into her side. Just for a moment – she really did have work that needed doing – but oh this was so nice. “I know. And it's my own fault, anyway.”

“Hush. It isn't. Just an accident. You're allowed such things here,” Crowley reminded her gently, arm slipping around Aziraphale's shoulders. “Do we have to play Sexy Princess Finds A Sexy Farm Girl Conveniently Collapsed By The Side of the Road and Sexily Nurses Her Back to Health again?”

“Honestly, I wouldn't say no.” Aziraphale giggled, and hugged Crowley. “Thank you, though. For someone supposedly clever, you'd think I would remember such things.”

“We definitely have to play that soon,” Crowley said. “You're already all bandaged up for me, even. Aziraphale, beloved, you are so smart, but these things don't happen overnight.” She kissed her softly. “Or even in a few short years. You were treated _so_ horribly, and it leaves a mark on a person. I will always help you remember that you're allowed to be soft, and make mistakes, and anything else you were taught was wrong.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “And I'll do the same for you. I promise.” One more little snuggle, and then they both got up, Aziraphale more careful with putting weight on her foot, but moving easily and settling behind her desk with a very happy sound.

Crowley laughed and kissed her cheek. “I'll be in my apartments, winding a warp until I die. Don't forget to write Asha back, love.”

“Promise. Any messages from you?” Aziraphale asked, setting out her notebook and pulling a stack of books closer. She had a small research project that she _finally_ could get back to. 

“Just that I send my love, and I can't wait to see her again.” Crowley smiled shyly. “And meet Elsie. Oh, I'll have her wrap done by then and bring it with me.” She thought a moment. “And I'll bring some cuttings from my philodendron. Um. Oh, bloody hell, just save me a sheet of paper and I'll dictate something proper to you,” she admitted, throwing up her hands while Aziraphale laughed at her.

“I'll save you several sheets of paper. I love you, have a good day, sweetheart. See you for supper?”

“I'll come here.” Crowley bent over to kiss her, one of their everyday kisses that always thrilled her soul. “I love you too. Happy researching, Maestra.” And with one last smile over her shoulder, she walked out of the Library and to her apartments, her silks and wools and the big loom that needed warping if she was to get Asha's wrap done in anything like enough time. The castle was quiet as usual, at least in this wing, but she knew it bustled with people, with her family and her friends and people she only knew in passing, and of course her darling hard at work in her Library, the world humming away in peace and exactly how Crowley liked it best.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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